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"When Love Bites Back "Written By: Hemlock Inyx Disclaimer: This chick does not own any of the
Gundam Wing characters because they belong to Bandai and Sunrise.
I am borrowing them for this fict and will return them in good (if
somewhat sticky) condition.This fict is written out of love and not
for profit, don't sue. Thanks and enjoy! Rating: NC 17 Warnings: yaoi, lemon, alternate universe, vampires,
violence, suicide, mild-ooc Pairings: 2x5, past: 1x5, 2xH, 2x3 Summary: He wanted one taste of passion…
Duo Maxwell’s sexy voice seduced him every night
with his late-night radio talk show. So Chang Wufei couldn’t
pass up the chance to be his personal assistant—despite Duo’s
insistence that he was a vampire. Vampires didn’t
wear faded jeans. And they were dark and brooding, not vibrant and
fun. Yet…with one glance of his silver violet eyes, Duo could
hypnotize him. With one nibble of his passionate lips, he could bend
him to his will. Duo insisted Wufei had nothing to fear from him.
But why then was Wufei so conscious of his exposed neck? " When Love Bites Back "
Chapter 5 "My first reaction is-no, never, not a chance, absolutely not. Followed by visions of a small cell in a large prison." Wufei clasped his hands tightly on top of his desk. He drew a long deep breath. "Why do you want to break into a bank's files?" Duo grinned. "You're intrigued, aren't you? Renfield, you're as transparent as the wings of a fly. You get a bright look in your eyes when you spot an interesting challenge." Frowning, Wufei put on his glasses, erecting a barrier. "There better be a damned good reason why you're asking me to break the law." "There are several." While he collected his thoughts, Duo paced and swatted a rubber ball attached to a paddle by a long rubber band. "First, I transferred my banking interests out of Blanc et Cie several years ago. So did most vampires who live outside of Europe. I've learned that Blanc et Cie is putting some kind of pressure on the Council of Six, who in turn is pressuring the vampire community to return their funds to Blanc et Cie." Wufei poured them both a crystal snifter of brandy and sighed with pleasure over the first taste. Tilting his head, he watched Duo pace and bat the rubber ball at the ceiling, and he tried not to think how great he looked in tight jeans and cowboy boots. "Who is the Council of Six?" For a moment, a struggle pinched his expression as if he were unsure how much to reveal. Then he shrugged and raked a hand through bangs of dark chestnut hair. "As far as I know, the council has always existed. If one member dies or resigns, another elder is appointed to keep the number at the traditional six." He bapped the rubber ball up and down in a blur and tossed Wufei a humourless smile. "Yes, vampires die. Not often, but it can happen. Anyway, the council is composed of elder vampires who have, in the past, settled disputes, disciplined those who broke rules, decided items of concern to our kind-that sort of thing." "Right off the bat I can see why the council would dislike IV. Isn't IV taking away some of their powers?" "Good boy," Duo said with a nod. He watched the ball slam against the paddle. "Anyway, centuries ago the council made an arrangement with the Marchalt family who owns Blanc et Cie." "What kind of arrangement?" Watching him, it occurred to Wufei that he had never seen Duo this serious before. The ball and paddle were props that he basically ignored. He was totally absorbed in what he was saying. "A vampire's banking needs are unique. In order not to attract suspicion, we occasionally must appear to die. Blanc et Cie handles the paperwork that facilitates this deception. Wills, death certificates and so forth. They arrange a smooth transfer of assets to the new heir." "Who is, of course, the same vampire who appeared to die." "Correct." Brow furrowed in thought, Duo paused before he continued speaking. "However, in today's world, these matters can be handled relatively easily by a skilled Renfield. I'm curious why the council is becoming increasingly hostile and insistent that all of us use Blanc et Cie exclusively." It was a question interesting enough to divert Wufei's attention from the way Duo's mouth moved. "What kind of pressure can the bank place on the council?" "Renfield, I admire the way your mind works. That is exactly what I hope to find out," Duo said, smiling with appreciation. Gradually his expression sobered and he tossed aside the ball and paddle. "There's a second issue. Since the council's relationship with Blanc et Cie extends back centuries, I think it's a good guess that the Crystals of Change are hidden in the bank's vaults." Standing, Wufei pressed his hands against the muscles on his back, then poured more brandy into his glass. He carried the brandy to the French doors and gazed outside at the moonlight glistening on the snow, thinking about the conversation so far. "What are the Crystals of Change?" He asked cautiously. One thing about Duo Maxwell; he didn't have small problems. His problems were shaping up as larger than life, exactly as he was. Little by little he was pulling him into his world and Wufei felt flattered by his confidence and trust, but the reasonable part of his mind remained anxious. On a day-to-day basis, it was easy to accept the fantasy that Duo was radio Denver's God of Death, a pretend vampire, and Wufei was his pretend Renfield. But there was nothing pretend about what he was saying now. His expression and deep smoky voice were deadly serious. "No one except the Council of Six knows if the crystals actually exist," Duo said, coming up behind him. He frowned at the gray and white shadows playing across the snow. "Relena's spent thirty years tracing every rumour and reference. The council blocked the most promising leads, but enough tantalizing hints remain that I'm convinced the crystals do exist." No heat radiated from his body, but Wufei was acutely aware of his solid presence directly behind him. If he moved backward one step... Blinking, he stared out at the moonlight and took a long swallow of brandy. "If the crystals exist... exactly what are they?" he asked in a faint voice, inhaling the intoxicating scent of Duo's after-shave. It was an exotic blend that he didn't recognize, something with a sandalwood base. "The crystals would revolutionize vampirism. They're rumoured to restore a vampire's mortality. You can imagine the impact it would have if this is true. Mistakes could be rectified. Quatre and others like him wouldn't have to contemplate a catastrophic death to escape an existence that has become intolerable. They could become mortal again, live out their lives and eventually die a natural death." Wufei increased the distance between them before he turned. Tilting his head, he searched Duo's expression, then asked quietly, "Are you searching for the crystals for yourself?" "Me?" Surprise lifted his eyebrows; then he laughed with genuine amusement. "Renfield, how can you ask that? You should know by now that I enjoy every minute of my life. I like being what I am." His grin faded into a serious expression. "I'm a happy vampire. Happier than you can guess, I take immense pleasure in being able to see better than any mortal ever could. I like having time to read every book that ever interested me, time to visit every monument ever erected, time to sample every pleasure available to night people. I'm invulnerable to disease or accident. I'll never age, never die. Why would I want to give that up?" Wufei met his eyes. "Maybe because you can never be wholly yourself without fearing discovery. Maybe because if mortals, as you call us, knew you actually existed, you'd be hunted and destroyed. Maybe because you long for sunlight. Maybe because you feel isolated and lonely. Maybe because you don't like how you're forced to live. Maybe because--" "Stop!" He stared at him and his fingers tightened on the stem of his brandy glass. "For someone who's entered the game late, you've come up to speed very quickly." Abruptly he turned on his heel and glanced at the grandfather clock near the fireplace. "We need to finish this discussion before I leave for the radio station." "Of course," Wufei agreed softly. Everything he'd said about enjoying his life was true. Wufei had seen for himself the exuberance with which Duo greeted each new evening. And he had never met anyone more alive, more spontaneous, more eager to explore the next moment. But he had just glimpsed an under layer to Duo Maxwell, a lonely current running beneath the vivacious personality he presented to the world. The discovery didn't surprise Wufei as much as he would have thought. There had been other hints. Speaking with one eye on the clock, Duo wrapped up their discussion. "IV supports a philosophy of choice. If the crystals exist, IV strongly believe it is a moral imperative to make them available to vampires like Quatre who, for whatever reason, wish to return to mortal status." "But the Council of Six disagrees?" Duo nodded. "They refuse to confirm the crystals are anything more than myth. Their position is, once a vampire, always a vampire. I believe confirmation of the crystals' existence may be hidden in Blanc et Cie's files." Standing in the doorway, Duo met his gaze across the room. "For some, like Quatre, finding the crystals is a matter of life and death." Wufei picked up the paddle and ball, turning the apparatus between his fingers. "I see." "So... will you break into the bank's computers?" "You're asking a lot. You're asking me to risk serious legal repercussions based on a lot of ifs and maybes." He bit his lip and hesitated. "I need some time to think about this, all right?" "Time is something I have plenty of, Renfield." Wufei didn't hear him leave, but when he turned Duo was gone. When he was sure he wouldn't return, he tried to hit the rubber ball with the paddle. The paddle flailed at air, missing the stupid ball by a mile. Hitting the damned thing was a whole lot harder than it looked. Releasing a sigh, he placed the paddle and ball on Duo's desk, then moved around the room turning off computers, switching off lights, pulling on his coat, scarf and gloves. He didn't mind working late; everything about this job fascinated him. But he dreaded the long icy drive back to his dark apartment. Pausing in the foyer beside the front door, Wufei tugged his thoughts away from IV, Blanc et Cie, the crystals of change and Quatre, the suicidal vampire, and thought about the large comfortable Renfield apartment upstairs. If he agreed to take the Renfield apartment, he wouldn't have to deal with the frustration of trying to start a cold car then drive across town to sleep for a few hours before he returned to work at dawn. As he inched his Jeep out of the icy cul-de-sac, he decided Heero had been right. This was an outrageous and possibly dangerous job coupled with a slave's hours. He was never going to have any time for a personal life, and his employer didn't even call him by his name. Nor did his scary vampire friends. Vampires. Wufei gripped the steering wheel and rolled his eyes. He had been an idiot to accept this job. Irritated and upset, he snapped on the car radio, narrowing his eyes against the streetlights glaring on patches of ice. Duo's rich seductive voice flowed from the speakers like dark honey. It was his special talent to make every listener believe Duo spoke to him personally. "The lines are open, creatures of the night. The God of Death waits to hear from you. Renfield? If you're listening, sweet thing..." His voice dropped to a low rumble that sounded like a velvet caress. "Drive carefully. The roads are icy tonight." Wufei's shoulders sagged. Duo was a tough taskmaster. He was weird and occasionally he frightened him a little. His friends were weird and a whole lot frightening. He worked him like an indentured servant, had asked him to do something illegal and dangerous. But he was wonderful and vibrant and happily nutty. He made him feel smart and capable and attractive. He'd brought excitement and a sense of adventure into his life. Wufei hated it, but he was crazy about him. * * * * * * * "Do you want to drive?" he asked testily, turning to glare at Duo who fidgeted in the seat beside him, tapping his fingers impatiently on the dashboard. "I used to drive a mean coach and four, but I never got the hang of automobiles," Duo answered. "Surely you can go a little faster. Keystone closes at nine o'clock." "I never heard of night skiing," Wufei said, inching the speedometer up to fifty-five. "Is this something new?" "By the time we arrive, if we ever do, it will be August and the snow will have melted." "Look, you can see the road is snowpacked and icy in spots. Plus I'm not used to driving in the mountains, especially at night. We'll get there when we get there, okay?" A long sigh expanded his ski sweater. "How could you live in Denver most of your life and not drive in the mountains?'' "Because," Wufei answered, "I'm not a skier. Believe it or not, there are many Colorado residents who don't ski, and who drive into the mountains maybe once every five years or so. On a bright summer day, I might add." "Renfield, sometimes you frustrate and amaze me. You don't ski, you don't hike, you don't play golf or tennis. You don't fish, you don't ride horses. You don't go nightclubbing. You said the gallery opening we attended last week was the first you'd gone to. What the hell have you been doing with your life? Did you have a deprived childhood? Grow up on the equivalent of a deserted island?" "You could say that." Wufei ground his teeth and kept his eyes firmly focused on the slushy road. "I was sickly until I was a senior in high school. While other kids were learning to do all those fun things you mentioned, I was lying in bed wishing I could be like them. They went to summer camp and boy scouts, later to proms and on dates. I lay in bed, studied with a private tutor and daydreamed about being strong and healthy." Shifting on the seat, Duo turned to examine him in the dim light from the dash. "I didn't know." His gaze skimmed his thick sweater and jeans, seeking evidence of a disability. "What was wrong with you?" "My mother, mostly." Wufei shrugged and frowned. The memory of those wasted years still possessed the power to make him feel helpless and depressed. "My father died when I was in grade school. After his death, my mother treated every sniffle like a major illness. She got it in her head that I was delicate and sickly, that it would be a miracle if I survived into adulthood. She was fiercely protective, kept me home and safe from all the germs at school and those floating around in the big bad world. Maybe I really was weak and sickly, I'm not sure anymore. Maybe my mother just needed to be needed. Or maybe she needed to nurse someone who wouldn't die." Duo's expression softened. "That doesn't sound like much of a childhood. I'm sorry, Renfield." "So am I," Wufei said simply. "I missed a lot." He followed a white van into the Eisenhower Tunnel. "When I was a senior in high school, I overheard one of my doctors arguing with my mother. He insisted there was basically nothing wrong with me except boredom and too many pills that I didn't need. My mother dropped him on the spot." Duo stretched an arm across the seats and squeezed his shoulder. The movement stirred the faint scent of his after-shave. "I threw away the pills, got out of bed and started a swim class to build up my body. A few months later I left for college. After a year on my own, I felt perfectly healthy." "How did your mother feel about that?" Wufei was glad to drive out of the brightly lit tunnel and plunge back into darkness. "We call each other on our birthdays," he said finally. "And we get together for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but we don't have much to say to each other. She's hurt and angry because she thinks I don't need her. I'm hurt and angry because it seems like she abandoned me once I got well. It's like she lost interest or like she wanted to punish me. I had to work my way through college--my mother didn't offer any financial help. She never instigates a phone call, and she doesn't seem interested in my life unless I have the flu or a bad cold. Then she's wonderful." "Look, I'm sorry about what I said." Wufei braked for the stop sign at the bottom of the ramp off 1-70. Finally he looked at him, cringing from the pity glowing in his violet eyes. "You're right. I don't do much of anything. I couldn't as a child. As an adult, I've been too busy trying to support myself to devote much time or money to new experiences. But usually I don't feel deprived. I enjoy working, I love to read, I'm a great cook and an avid film buff. I like board games and any kind of cards. I still swim whenever I get a chance, and there's nothing I like more than sitting in the sun reading a great book while I'm getting a terrific tan. That may sound dismally dull to you, but most of the time it feels fine to me." Wufei sounded defensive and he knew it. In a softer voice he added, "Someday I want to try all those fun things you mentioned. Just to say I've done them. But if it doesn't happen, that's okay, too. If I sound ambivalent, it's because I am. Part of me longs for a little excitement. Another part, the sensible part, says excitement can be dangerous. Forget it." "No offence, Renfield," Duo commented, still looking at him, "but if you don't make things happen, they don't happen. You can't put things off until 'someday’. You have to live now, this minute." He grinned. "And a little excitement and danger adds spice to life." Wufei laughed then turned left onto Highway 9. In the distance he spotted warmly dressed skiers zipping down flood-lit slopes. "Believe me, I've lived more in the month I've worked for you than in the previous twenty-four years. I jump on a Harley like I've been riding motorcycles for years. Well, almost. I've had dinner in Denver's best restaurants, been to gallery openings, nightclubs, and the theatre. And tonight--" he eyed the lighted slopes warily before turning into Keystone's parking lot "--I'm going skiing. Maybe." But dreading it, feeling an inborn resistance. New physical activities would always affect him that way, Wufei suspected. Duo didn't move to open the door after he cut the ignition. "I know what it's like to have a disease that isolates you and cuts you off from the rest of the world," he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "I remember how depressing and frightening it was. And lonely." Surprise lifted Wufei's eyebrows. It was absolutely impossible to imagine Duo listless and ill. Curiosity flickered in his gaze. "What kind of disease did you have? Do you still have it?" He blinked, then waved a dismissive hand. "That's not important anymore. I just wanted you to know that I understand, and I apologize for making flip comments." Disappointed that he didn't intend to reveal more, Wufei reached for the door handle. "In my case, a dead person is teaching me to live. It's ironic, isn't it? But I'm grateful." "A dead person?" Duo's dark eyebrows shot toward his hairline. Sudden suspicion flashed in his eyes like an electric pulse. "Damn it, Renfield. Have you been reading books about vampires?" "Why do you sound so surprised?" He glared, refusing to return his smile. "Okay, I guess dead isn't the right expression,'' Wufei added uncertainly. "Is undead more correct?'' "Oh, for God's sake." An angry stare pierced the darkness. "I'm not dead. And undead is a ridiculous expression. You're undead as far as that goes. So is everyone who is alive. I told you not to read those trashy vampire novels." "Well, what are you, then? Exactly what is a vampire?" He opened the car door with a quick hard motion, bounded outside and reached for the skis strapped on the rack he had installed on the roof of Wufei's Jeep. "Get the boots and poles out of the trunk, will you?" In silence they walked toward the ticket cage, carrying their skis on their shoulders. Before they reached the throngs of night skiers crowding the base of the slope, Wufei glanced at Duo from the side of his eyes. "I think this is the first time I've seen you in a bad mood. If I upset you, I'm sorry." "It's not you, Renfield. I get edgy every year when the days start getting longer. The only thing I dislike more than summer is daylight saving time. Both are almost on top of us." He thrust his skis into a skimpy snowbank and gazed up at the skiers darting down the slope. On either side of the run, the ground was bare and turning green. Only the artificial snowmakers made it possible to keep the slope open. A week from now the snowmakers wouldn't be able to keep pace with the daily melt and Keystone would close for skiing until winter returned. "Plus, I'm beginning to wonder if you're ever going to decide about Blanc et Cie .... "
"I'm still thinking about the bank," Wufei murmured, noticing Quatre sitting alone on the outside deck of a restaurant overlooking the ski runs. As usual, he looked like a devastatingly handsome teenager, lonely and miserable. Dorothy flew off the slope with a flourish, cutting to a halt before them with a manoeuvre that sprayed slushy snow over Wufei's boots. "What kept you so long? The snow's glorious!'' Leaning forward, she kissed Duo's lips in greeting. "What a shame you have to waste your last chance on the slopes teaching your Renfield to snowplow. What a bore. Keystone closes at the end of the week, you know." Her cold eyes swept a critical glance over Wufei's jeans and bulky parka. Dorothy's superiority pricked Wufei's competitiveness, but also triggered his insecurities. Dorothy's disdain made him feel about as significant as a bread box. When Wufei turned toward Duo, who had stepped aside to watch the skiers flying down the slopes, he saw the excitement and eagerness sparkling in his thick-lashed eyes. His feet moved slightly as if he were itching to fling himself down the side of the mountain. "Look. Dorothy's right. Go ahead without me," Wufei urged, feeling a guilty surge of relief. "It's silly to waste your last chance on the slopes teaching me how to stand up. It will be months before another lesson, and by then I'll have forgotten everything." He slid a glance toward Dorothy's coldly triumphant smile, unable to resist aiming a barb of his own. "Besides, I think I'd prefer to learn during the day. I've always thought of sun and blue sky as an integral part of the ski scene." When he watched Dorothy's eyes narrow on his throat, Wufei regretted the reference to sun and blue sky. Swallowing, he reminded himself that Dorothy was no ordinary woman. Dorothy Catalonia could be very dangerous. "Of course, night skiing is probably nice, too," he mumbled with a faint smile. He had the deeply uncomfortable impression that Dorothy could hear the blood rushing around in his veins. When the right opportunity arose, he'd ask Duo if that was possible. "No chickening out," Duo said firmly. "You are going to learn to ski tonight." Crouching, he flung back his arms and made a schussing sound. "This is you, Renfield. Picture it. Flying down the mountain like a bird, wind on your cheeks, the world at your feet!" He laughed out loud with the joy of anticipation. "Wrong. I can be as stubborn as you," Wufei said, aware that Dorothy continued to stare at him. "I'm tired and already cold, and I don't feel like making a fool of myself. I'll take a rain check until next season. So, it's settled. I'll go to the restaurant and keep Quatre company." Duo's hands tightened on his forearms and he studied his expression. "You were just telling me about everything you missed, and that you wanted to try new things." "I also told you that trying new things sounds like a good idea until it's time to actually do it." Wufei smiled, trying to ignore the tingle that resulted from his touch. "The truth is, I'm relieved." "Renfield, there will always be another time for me. I don't mind staying on the bunny slopes and teaching you a trick or two." "For heaven's sake, Duo." Dorothy's lip curled. "Stop begging him. If he wants to waste the evening moping around with Quatre, let him do it. Let's go." Duo seemed genuinely reluctant to leave him. "It's your decision," he said finally. Before Dorothy pulled him towards the lift, he looked back at Wufei over his shoulder. "Ask Quatre to explain what we are. He'll answer your questions." Wufei watched them go, thinking what a stunning couple they made. Duo and Dorothy looked like film stars, two rich and beautiful people, as comfortable with each other as lovers. As he watched, Duo threw back his head and laughed at something Dorothy said. Dorothy placed a possessive hand on his arm. Suddenly in a sour mood, Wufei turned and trudged toward the restaurant. He wished he was wearing a flashy formfitting ski outfit, wished he could ski better than Dorothy. "Hi, mind if I join you?" he asked, sliding into the chair across from Quatre. He raised miserable sea-blue eyes. "I'm not very good company.'' "Neither am I. I'm almost as depressed as you are." "Really?" A flicker of interest stirred his gaze. "You're trying to think of painless ways to kill yourself?" "Well, no," Wufei admitted, frowning. He ordered a cup of hot chocolate and tried to identify Dorothy and Duo among the skiers ascending on the chair lift. "Life's too short to end it prematurely." "For me, life is endless. Time doesn't matter when you have forever. There's no sense of urgency, not ever. You don't have to do anything today because there's always tomorrow. An endless, endless chain of tomorrows." Wufei thought about Duo's collection of clocks and watches. Suddenly he wondered if the clocks and watches were an effort to maintain a connection with mortality. "Duo suggested that I ask you to explain vampirism." "Explain it?" A puzzled frown creased Quatre's teen-aged brow. "I've been reading a few vampire books," Wufei admitted, feeling an embarrassed flush heat his cheeks. Quatre was the only vampire among his growing acquaintance who didn't glaze over when he blushed. His abrupt shift informed him that he was acutely aware of the heat pulsing in his cheeks, but he seemed repelled by anything to do with blood. He made him uncomfortable, not by reminding him of the good old days when humans were fair game, but because he reminded him of a distasteful aspect of himself. Wufei rolled his eyes and sighed when he realized he was wondering if Quatre's self-loathing was so intense that he might be starving himself. He simply could not bring himself to inquire if he was, well, eating regularly. He made a sound of disgust. "Almost nothing in those novels is correct," he said. "Except the part about requiring human blood to exist. Unfortunately, that part is disgustingly correct." His mouth twisted in revulsion. Wufei glanced at the surrounding tables with a worried look. "Shhh. Not so loud." When Quatre offered one of his rare smiles, he was transformed into a gloriously handsome young man. Tonight he wore a brown parka and ski pants of a rich chocolate color that went well with his blond hair. His eyes were soulful blue pools. Although Wufei was shivering, the cold night wind didn't affect him. Consequently, he appeared more confident and at ease than others who fidgeted and squirmed to keep warm. A professional photographer would have loved everything about Quatre, his great looks, his inner stillness. He shrugged, the movement unconsciously elegant. "If anyone overhears, they'll assume we're authors or filmmakers discussing a new project. No one really believes in vampires anymore. That's strange, isn't it? To be something no one believes in?" Most likely he was correct. Still it made Wufei nervous to talk about vampires. The concept still stunned him. "The books say vampires are, ah, dead people imbued with an evil spirit," Wufei said, leaning forward, keeping his voice low. "Good God." Quatre stared at him. "I'd forgotten about that. It's absolutely not true." "Well, then..." Wufei prompted. "Vampirism is a condition of the immune system. There's nothing supernatural about it. We have a disease, I guess you could say, whereby the immune system becomes hyper-efficient. It's so efficient that it heals ageing, thereby allowing us to live forever. I doubt I've aged two days in a hundred years. And I'm never ill. Since the immune system is super-enhanced, it repairs injury or disease." Quatre studied the disbelief clouding Wufei's acceptance. "Watch." He pulled a pocket knife from the pack near his feet. When Wufei understood what he meant to do, he cried out. "No! Don't!" But he was too late. Looking bored, Quatre drew the blade of the knife across his palm, pressing it deeply into his flesh. Horrified, but too riveted to look away, Wufei froze, staring in sick fascination. Swallowing the dark taste in his mouth, he first noticed there was amazingly little blood welling out of the terrible wound. The second, even more amazing item, was how the slash appeared to repair itself before his very eyes. One minute passed, then two. Quatre held up his palm. Wufei couldn't believe his eyes. There was not a mark on his skin, not even a faint pink "See? Healed." Dazed, he released a long pent-up breath. "I wouldn't have believed this if I hadn't seen it." His mind raced, and sudden excitement sparkled in his eyes. "Do you realize this 'disease' you have could cure AIDS? And the other immune deficiency diseases, as well!" "That's correct. Vampirism cures or repairs all mortal diseases and infirmities." He shook his head. "The problem is, the cure is worse. The mortal becomes a vampire. You know the side effects of vampirism. A lethal sensitivity to sunlight. A thirst for human blood. An inability to become pregnant or sire children." Quatre gazed into his eyes, his expression sad. "Can you imagine turning a million AIDS victims into vampires? Giving them eternal life and a lust for human blood? Duo and the IV board decided the world isn't ready for that and all of us agree. A million or so vampires, and more coming every day, would irreversibly alter every facet of life in today's world. Politically, socially, criminally." After thinking about the possible implications, Wufei reluctantly had to agree. "Still, I wish..." "Renfield," Quatre said, leaning forward to cover his cold fingers with his colder hand. "I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy. I have outlived everyone who ever loved me. For fifty years I lived a life so criminal and degenerate that I won't talk about it to anyone. There are no rules, no laws for people who can't be punished or killed. I'll never have to pay for my sins or justify my life to a higher power."
"There is nothing I can't have, therefore there is nothing I want. I have no ambitions, no goals. Few new experiences to look forward to. I have no mortal friends because I can't share a normal daytime life and I fear discovery. I have no true vampire friends because we grow bored with each other so quickly, and we don't really trust each other. I have no reason to hurry, nothing to do, nothing to plan for or look forward to. I have no purpose. When you have eternity before you, there is no reason to do anything today." "I'm sorry," Wufei said finally, speaking softly. He drew a breath, then asked another question that had been bothering him. "If a vampire, ah, drinks the blood of a mortal, directly that is, like from the neck--" he tugged the collar of his sweater, embarrassed and feeling like an idiot "--does that turn the mortal into a vampire?" "Of course not. If it did, there would be about a million vampires running around." Quatre gazed at him with an expression of distaste. "There has to be an exchange of blood to create a vampire." "You mean the mortal has to drink the blood of the vampire?" Wufei shuddered and made a face. "Oh, yuck! That's so gross!" "When it's happening it doesn't seem... Look, never mind that. Tell me about sunshine. Describe the feel of it on your face, and how it glows on a flower petal. Remind me how the sky looks on a warm summer day, how blue it can be. And how the clouds shine with the sun behind them. Tell me how it feels to sweat and how apples taste. Is it pleasant to hear only your own thoughts in a quiet night? God, Renfield. I can't remember any of those things." Despair brimmed in his eyes, and he grew increasingly agitated. "I'd rather die than go on like this! I swear I'm going to do it I'm going to walk out into the sun!" Leaning, Wufei clasped his wrist. "Quatre! Listen to me. There's hope. Just listen..."
Beside him, Duo filled the silence with a stream of conversation, talking about the exhilaration of flying down the slopes, the condition of the snow, the night wind rushing past his face. "I have thirty minutes to get to the radio station," he commented as they swept around a curve and the lights of Denver spread below them like a Christmas grid. "We'll make it in time, won't we? I swear, Renfield, you drive like an old lady." "We'll make it," Wufei promised, his eyes on the road. "Those are the first words you've spoken since we left Keystone." "Duo? If the offer's still open, I'd like to move into the Renfield apartment." "Excellent. I was wondering when you'd realize that keeping an apartment is a waste of money. What changed your mind?" "If an idea comes to me in the middle of the night, I want to be able to walk down the stairs and have instant access to your computers." As hard as he tried, Wufei couldn't think of Quatre as a hundred and ten years old. To him, he was a teenager in pain who desperately, needed help. "If the Crystals of Change exist," he said firmly, "I'm going to find them." He threw Duo a challenging look, daring him to disagree. "And Quatre gets to use them first!" Smiling, he raised his palms in a gesture of surrender. "That's what it's all about, giving those like Quatre a second chance." He added softly, "It isn't going to be easy." "If the Crystals of Change are out there, I'll find them," Wufei repeated, gripping the steering wheel. Even if it meant breaking the law, he decided. "I take it you've decided to hack into the bank files?" Wufei's mouth set in a grim expression. "That's right." He fervently hoped that he found the crystals before the FBI found him. When Duo squeezed his shoulder, the risk seemed worth it. ~ * ~ |
